


Summer Camp

by Plaided_Ani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaided_Ani/pseuds/Plaided_Ani
Summary: You and the boys investigate the slaughtering of counselors at a cursed summer camp.





	Summer Camp

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Friday the 13th, may it be filled with hot, young, brutally murdered young adults!
> 
> (This was an excuse to write Sam smut. Sorry not sorry.)

It was a case straight out of a campy horror movie, five counselors were slaughtered as they got the camp ready for the summer. Normally it wouldn’t have been your kind of scene, but the cops wouldn’t talk about it and the only survivor was missing two limbs and held up in a psychiatric facility. The news said she claimed that whoever killed her friends was still out there and impossible to kill, even after they set him on fire and managed to stab him in the chest.

“Think it’s a Tulpa,” Sam asked as he lugged your bags towards a cabin.

“Could be,” you hummed. You honestly hating camping, the dirt, the bugs, the heat, but living the life as a hunter brought you out into the deep woods from time to time and you learned to deal with it. But at least here at camp there was indoor plumbing and beds. “Or it could be a serial killer bent on revenge against horny camp counselors.”

Sam grinned as you pulled the rickety door open and allowed him in first. The cabin was small, but had a tiny sitting room that lead to a bedroom holding an aging queen bed and bathroom that you barely fit in, so you weren’t sure how Sam was going to use it, but at least you had your privacy. Dean was rooming with, much to his delight, the rest of the actual counselors in hopes of a hookup before facing the big bad.

“My parents shipped me off to camp every summer,” you recalled idly, unpacking your clothes into the small wooden dresser. “I hated every minute of it.”

“Why? I would’ve loved to have gone to a regular camp,” Sam laughed from where he stretched out on the bed, the springs creaked with his breathing. “Probably would’ve been better than chasing werewolves all summer.”

“I built so many birdhouses out of popsicle sticks it’s not even funny.” You tucked away the last of Sam’s shirts and moved to crawl in the bed with him, the thin mattress gave easily to your weight and groaned in protest. He reached out for you as you moved closer, his hands found your hips as you straddled his. “And they forced me to go fishing,” you grimaced. “Had to hook poor little worms, it was so sad.”

“I promise you don’t have to do anything like that while you’re here. We signed you up as the swim instructor,” he informed with a glint in his eye.

“What? You said I was doing archery,” you gasped, slapping at his chest.

“And miss the chance of seeing you in a bathing suit all day? No way,” Sam grinned and blocked the rest of your playful hits. 

You rolled your eyes and fought against him as he pulled you down for a kiss. “You’re a pervert, you know that?” You lost the battle and allowed him to press his mouth against yours. “And hopefully we aren’t all chopped up into tiny pieces and eaten before the camp opens,” you muttered against his puckered lips.

“You really know how to kill the mood, Y/N,” he groaned and let his head fall back onto the pillow. 

You laughed and winked, climbing off of him. “C’mon, let’s go find your brother.” You pulled him out of the bed and eventually the cabin, heading out to join the others already gathered around the evening campfire. Dean was chatting with a pretty blonde around your age, wide eyed and flushed as the other Winchester flirted shamelessly. “I see that you got straight to work,” you greeted them when you got close enough.

“This the Brittany,” Dean turned his attention to the both of you. “Her parents own the camp.”

She gave a little wave to the both of you. “They’ve been talking about buying it for a while now. They met here when they were younger, they were counselors here. Just celebrated their 25th anniversary, so they caved and guilted me into running it.”

“How sweet,” you cooed. 

She nodded and smiled, but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “Thanks for accepting the job, it was hell trying to get people to want to work here.”

You tilted your head, feigning ignorance, “What do you mean?”

Her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head, “We’ve got a nasty mosquito problem. Everyone’s worried about bird flu or whatever.” She laughed loud and nervously and you played along. “Anyway, let’s get drunk!” With a clap of her hands, she was up and jogged over to the cooler the others had open and full of cheap beer.

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Think you can get it out of her, Dean?” The eldest Winchester winked and joined in the merriment of bad music and alcohol, his arm already wrapped around Brittany. “Wanna look around?” You grinned up at your boyfriend and grabbed his hand, leading him back towards your cabin. “I thought you wanted to work?”

“Dean’s working,” you replied with a half shrug. “Besides, don’t you know the best way to get a crazy serial killer to come out of hiding is for two young, beautiful people to fuck like rabbits while their friends party outside?”

Sam laughed and scooped you up to carry you the rest of the way to the cabin, “Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, “it’s in the rule book.”

“There’s a rule book, huh?” You pulled the door open once again and Sam beelined straight to the bed. He unceremoniously dropped you on the cheap, thin mattress and eagerly climbed on top and between your legs. “Does it say how we’re supposed to do it? Hard and fast? Nice and slow?”

You tilted your head in thought when he sat on his hunches, pulling off his thin white shirt that was already soaked through with sweat. “Hard and fast,” you decided. “And very loud.”

“Loud? I think we can manage that,” Sam chuckled and worked on his pants as you wiggled out of your own tank top and shorts, tossing them aside. Stripped down to your underwear, he was back on you, mouth attacking yours with his normal primal greed, teeth and tongue and growls. Your fingers twisted into his hair, your sweat slicked bodies clung together as he rolled his hips against yours.

The bed groaned beneath you as the two of you moved in tandem, drowning out your whimpers and Sam’s moans. Any other time, any other place, you would have complained and moved to the floor as you’ve done in past hotels, but somehow, being in a camp like this hearing the springs protest beneath you made it all the more dirty and got you a bit more hot and bothered. 

“C’mon, Sam,” you whined, pulling away from his hungry lips, “fuck me.”

“I’m workin’ on it,” he grumbled, but sat back once more to pull off his boxers. Your panties were next, already soaked from your slick and sweat, peeled off with the hook of his thumbs. A devious smile split his face and he dropped so that his shoulders could spread your thighs.

“No, no,” you shook your head and tried to coax him up to you, “no foreplay, straight to the dicking!”

Sam shook his head right back at you and licked at his lips, his thumbs that removed your underwear now parted your folds and he stared hungrily at your core. “Didn’t get dessert when we stopped for food,” he reminded you. 

“I’m not ice cream!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sam sniggered and licked a long, flat strip from your fluttering hole to your clit and groaned at the bittersweet tang. A shiver shot through you and your legs clenched around him, a whining moan begged him for more. “Thought you said it’s gotta be loud? I could barely hear you.”

You slapped the top of his head and scowled down at his beautiful, smirking face. “That’s ‘cause you gotta fuck me.”

“I am,” Sam snorted. His eyes locked with yours as he licked another slow train from hole to hole to your swelling bud. You struggled around him and groaned, your eyes threatened to flutter closed, but you fought against it to glare at him.

“It’s been five days since you’ve been inside me, Samuel,” you snapped. “Stop fucking around and dick me down, dammit.”

“You’re really bossy when you’re desperate,” he teased, but climbed up your body once more to give you a taste of yourself as he lined up. “I kinda like it.” You grinned up at him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders and when he pushed in one fluid motion to the hilt, your smile turning into a sinnful O. “You said hard and fast.”

You nodded eagerly and he pulled back, leaving just the tip before slamming back home with the bed squeaking underneath you. “Sam,” you hissed, “just like that.” Your legs and arms wrapped around him as he started the quick, brutal pace of his hips. The thin metal frame of the bed rocked and swayed with his thrusts, your desperate moans only joining in the chorus of the whining objection of the mattress beneath you. 

Sam’s lips found your skin once more, kissing and marking the slick flesh. “Louder,” he murmured against your jaw, pinching the skin off its bone with his teeth. “Want that killer to show up, don’t you,” he chuckled breathlessly.

You did as you were told, lewd sounds ripped from your throat as Sam changed his angle, searching for the right spot to get you really singing. You did your best to encourage him, sobbing out dirty words, telling him to fuck you harder, faster, and he did. His hips slammed repeatedly against your ass, the squeaks of the bed barely registering over the sound of skin against skin or your porn worthy moans. 

And when he found your spot, you clawed at his back, latching onto him which signaled him to let loose. He fucked into you with wild abandon, his face buried into the side of yours, both of you losing your voices as Sam worked you closer to the edge. Neither of you registered the sound of your cabin door open or the sounds of the footsteps creeping closer.

You hit yours first, the blinding white of you orgasm burst through you and came out with a cry of Sam’s name. You clung to him desperately as you rode it out, Sam still pumping into you with a feral need until he spilled his own deep inside of you.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me,” Dean said from the doorway, a crooked grin on his lips. 

“Are you fucking serious,” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and hurling to across the room only to miss.

Dean watched the pillow fall to the floor and he snorted, “Nice throw. You might want to get your clothes on. We’re getting out of here.”

“What? Why,” Sam asked, reluctantly pulling out of you. Dean gagged playfully and turned away so you two could get decent.

“Because the whole thing is a hoax. The ‘survivor’,” he used air quotes, “we talked to? Brittany’s crazy sister. And Brittany? Just as crazy. The family made the whole thing up to get people to come to the camp. There’s no killer, there was no murders, just a scam to get publicity.”

You sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, gathering you clothes on the way to the shower. “We’ll pack up and meet you in twenty, I guess.”

“If you two wanna keep playing naughty counselors, I’m all for staying the night,” Dean chuckled. “Brittany might be crazy, but she’s got some nice ti-”

You made a loud yelp to get him to stop. “Get out, Dean. We’ll meet you at the car.” You disappeared into the bathroom with Sam on your heels. As you predicted, he was barely able to get around the small room and when you two climbed into the shower, he couldn’t turn on the water without elbowing you in the face.

“You look disappointed,” Sam noted, his fingers running through your dampening hair.

“I wanted to kill something,” you pouted. 

Rolling his eyes, he reached for the shampoo and started to wash your hair. “I’m sure we’ll find something for you to murder soon. Close your eyes.” 

You whined pathetically but did as you were told. “Next time we agree to go to summer camp, there better be an immortal serial killer on the loose or I’m gonna be pissed.”


End file.
